


La morte rossa

by water_bby



Category: The Masque of the Red Death - Edgar Allan Poe
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 23:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19413487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/water_bby/pseuds/water_bby
Summary: Prince Prospero and his court may have sealed themselves into the Abbey, but what about those who live outside its walls?





	La morte rossa

**Author's Note:**

> written for my "epistolary" square for Trope Bingo, round 12

Your Excellency,

When you appointed me to this parish last spring after you received word of the death of Father Umberto, you asked that I let you know how the village was doing in the wake of the Red Death. As I wrote to you after my arrival, the people are well, although they are reluctant to discuss the Abbey or the Prince Prospero. I have now heard some more stories about someone they call only Nonna Vita, who I fear may be a witch; however, when I by chance mentioned this to Donna Caterina, she assured me that I should not worry about it. Please do advise me on this matter, if I may be so bold as to ask. Also, I recently undertook to clear out Father Umberto's study and discovered the enclosed letters, already sealed. As they are addressed to your excellency, I am forwarding them on.

Dearest Giacomo,

My belated congratulations on your election as bishop! Those of the village who remember you as a youngster have asked me to pass on their congratulations as well, as has Donna Caterina. I grieve that you must begin this phase of your life while the Red Death runs through the land. We have heard that Prince Prospero will be retreating to the Abbey here to wait out this horror. We pray that he does not recognize us.

I fear our prayers were not answered. The Prince has sent his men to collect our food stores to supplement what they brought with them. When the miller Antonio, speaking for the village, begged them to leave something against the coming winter, they denied him, laughing that dying from lack of food might be better than the Red Death.

The people have asked about contacting Donna Caterina, saying, "Nonna Vita can help!" But I have pointed out that we have, until now, been spared the horror of the Red Death, and we have time to refill at least some of our stores. We might all eat but little, but we will be able to eat. This calmed the people, and they agree that we will be able to survive this.

Those in the Abbey have not returned, but the men have established a rotation to keep an eye on it, so we might have some warning should they attempt to take more of our stores.

Unfortunately, the children have begun to fall ill. It is not the Red Death, thanks be to God, but few who fall ill recover.

You come from here, so you will understand. I finally said yes when Antonio asked again about speaking to Donna Caterina. We have now lost nearly a quarter of our children. God forgive me. I said yes.

I do not know what happened. Maria, his wife, says that he said only that "Nonna Vita asked for some blood." But three nights later, he and his elder son, Giovanni, went to the graveyard and dug a grave. They were seen by some of the village, but those who saw them assumed it was that Pietro, the youngest, had taken ill and was likely dying. I did not hear of this until two days later, when Pietro and Giovanni brought word from their mother than Antonio had vanished in the night.

The men who were watching the Abbey report music came from the Abbey that night, like a great party, stopping only once an hour, each hour. They say there was also a sound like a clock striking. They tell me that Antonio came to them about an hour before midnight and asked them to pray for his soul. He then walked to the Abbey and started walking around the wall. They quickly lost sight of him, and he never returned.

At the following dawn Donna Caterina knocked on my door. She looked exhausted, as if she had not slept at all. She told me to take the blacksmith and his apprentice, and anyone else from the village who is interested, to the Abbey at dawn two days hence. She instructed that we cut open the gates and suggested we burn the central hall, if not the entire Abbey. When I asked about the people inside, she said there were none remaining.

The men watching the Abbey report that the music at stopped at midnight, and when they approached the wall in the morning, there were no sounds coming from within.

I prayed for those two days. I still pray.

We did enter the Abbey at the second dawn after my visit from Donna Caterina. We found all dead within, including Antonio. He was in a chamber hung all in black which contained only a clock and the body of Prince Prospero. Antonio's body bore no marks, but Prince Prospero and all the others had died of the Red Death.

I said words of burial, and we burned everything. I will tell anyone else who asks that the fire was an accident, caused by lightening or a stray spark leaping from some fireplace to some furnishings. But you deserve the truth, my friend.

We did bring Antonio back, and we buried him quickly in the grave he had dug for himself. His family are still mourning, although I notice that his eldest, Antonia, has started spending time with Donna Caterina. I have only asked her once if she is sure of this path. I dare not ask again.

The children are no longer getting sick, and this year looks to be a good harvest, so we hope to more than fully replenish our stores. For this I praise God. But I fear that I am growing weary of life. If you do not hear from me again, know that all is now well here.


End file.
